


'Tis the Season: Part II

by cassbutt_67



Series: To Speak the Language of Flowers [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety, Cute, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluffy, Fun, Holidays, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 12:23:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7976692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassbutt_67/pseuds/cassbutt_67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean faces his fears of flying with Castiel by his side and they join the Novak family for an interesting Thanksgiving dinner. Cas even gets to show Dean the town in which he grew up and the infamous New York City around the holiday season. Despite the family tensions, the two are more than happy to be together for the holidays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Tis the Season: Part II

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know this is late but please bear with me. The last few weeks have been absolutely insane. I'm going to say I'll update every 2 weeks, just to cover my ass, since classes have begun at this point. As usual, I didn't read this over before posting, so corrections are welcome. Could be a bit tiggering for some toward the end. 
> 
> I don't own Supernatural/ its characters but this is my storyline.
> 
> Also, here's the link to the Novak's house:  
> http://www.zillow.com/homes/for_sale/Albany-NY/pmf,pf_pt/29643050_zpid/37074_rid/42.743734,-73.700924,42.592521,-73.920651_rect/11_zm/

_ This is it. This is the day  I die. _

Dean was laying wide awake on his back, staring at the ceiling as the sun poured in through the window behind his head. 

Just a few weeks ago, he had agreed to attend a Thanksgiving holiday with Cas to his parents’ house in New York. He was thrilled he’d asked him, and he was really looking forward to seeing the place where Cas had grown up as well as catching up with his brothers. But there was a small problem. This trip included  _ flying _ . There weren’t many things that scared Dean, but flying absolutely  _ terrified  _ him. And here he was, just a few days before Thanksgiving, Cas’ sleeping arms wrapped around him, waiting to hear the sound of the alarm that would tell them it was time to pack their bags and leave. Leave to the airport, where they would board the flying tin can, and probably never make it to the east coast.

As if on cue, the alarm sounded and Castiel shifted beside him; lifting his arm from Dean’s stomach he slapped the clock. He kissed Dean’s cheek sleepily, barely opening his eyes, and lay his head on his chest. 

“Dean?” he said quietly. “Are you okay?” 

His heart was hammering away, and he was sure Cas could feel it. By way of response, he turned to face Cas and wrapped his arms around him tightly, burying his face in Cas’ neck. 

“It’s going to be alright,” Castiel assured him, returning the embrace and rubbing soothing circles between his shoulder blades. 

“Let’s just go,” sighed Dean, releasing Cas and rolling out of bed.

They’d stayed at Castiel’s flat that night because it was closer to the BART station that would take them to the airport. They had close to seven hours of travelling to do that day and their flight was scheduled to leave at 10:50pm, which meant they’d have to be at the airport by 8:30am, according to Cas. They had an hour and fifteen minute stopover in Minneapolis after a three and a half hour flight. Dean had wanted to get a flight with no stopovers, but there hadn’t been any available. 

Seeing as it was already almost 7:00am, he decided his best course of action would be to shower and try to eat something so he wouldn’t be starved by the time they arrived in New York. 

He went to the washroom wordlessly and stripped, stepped into the shower, and rubbed his hands over his face.  _ You’re fine,  _ he thought.  _ You’re going to be fine.  _

***

Castiel lay in bed for a few moments after Dean left. When he heard the shower begin to run, he sat up and glanced at his half-packed bag slumped against the closet door.  _ You’ve got time _ , he told himself, padding out to the kitchen to start the coffee. He took a bowl and frying pan from the cupboard and began whisking eggs. By the time the eggs were done and the toast was nearly ready, Dean stepped out of the washroom wearing naught but his shorts, and collapsed onto the sofa, running a hand over his face.

Castiel found it difficult to concentrate on anything when Dean did such things. Prancing around half  _ naked  _ in his living room. He swallowed thickly and peeled his eyes from Dean’s bare chest when he smelled the beginnings over overdone toast. He popped the toaster and cleared his throat as he prepared a plate for Dean.

“You alright?” asked Dean.

Cas cleared his throat. “Yes, of course. It’s just, well you’re… you’re  _ distracting _ .”  _ Yes, blush like a teenager, that’s great,  _ he thought sarcastically.

Dean actually laughed. Then he stood and wrapped his arms around Cas from behind and kissed his neck. “I could be  _ more _ distracting,” he whispered.

_ There isn’t time for this!  _ he cursed himself for being so easily turned on. He knew Dean only meant he could distract him further by kissing him senseless right there in the kitchen, but his dick apparently thought otherwise. 

Cas cleared his throat and said, “There’s no time for that.”

“Aw, come on,” Dean insisted, kissing his neck several more times. 

“Dean, I’ve just finished breakfast,” he said, less sternly than he’d attempted.

But Dean removed his arms and took his plate, settling for kissing Cas’ cheek before replying, “Alright. Thank you for breakfast, sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome,” Castiel smiled. “There will be time for that later.”

He was now faced with the issue of his erection which, beneath only the thin fabric of his pyjama pants, would  _ undoubtedly  _ be entirely too obvious. Not wanting Dean to get the wrong idea, he opted to lean against the counter and pretend to be searching for something high in the cupboard, desperately thinking of anything that would get rid of this irksome thing. 

“Need a hand?” Dean asked, looking up from his plate at the kitchen table.

“No, no I’ve got it,” Cas replied, practically sighing with relief as he felt the bulge in his pants slowly subsiding. He pulled an old tea box from the top shelf and placed it on the counter.

“I think the coffee’s done,” Dean commented.

“What?” he’d forgotten all about it. “Oh, yes. Yes, of course. Would you like some?”

He nodded and Cas poured himself and Dean a cup before sitting across from him with his plate of food.

“Perhaps caffeine isn’t the best choice?” he asked. “You should try to calm down a bit before we go.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Is that what the tea’s for?” he nodded at the box on the counter.

Castiel had no idea what the tea was. It was something obscure someone had given him years ago. “Yes,” he lied. “Exactly.” Castiel cleared his throat, blushing profusely.

Thankfully, Dean changed the subject, probably pretending Cas was any good at lying. “Have you finished packing?”

“Not yet,” he shook his head.

Dean got up to take his plate to the sink and stopped to kiss Cas’ head. “You should probably do that. We have to leave soon.”

“You’re right,” he smiled. He finished his breakfast and went to his room, throwing a few more articles of clothing and some toiletries into the duffel bag before zipping it closed. 

He knew when it was getting closer to the time they had to catch the BART train by the amount of pacing Dean was doing in the living room. Cas really felt for him, being someone who had experienced severe anxiety over nearly  _ everything  _ for such a long time. But he knew he there was probably little he could do about it. He opted to leave a small bouquet of flowers in Dean’s bag, including mullein, saxifraga, petunias, and eucalyptus.  _ Take courage, affection, your presence soothes me, protection. _ He only hoped he would be sure he had everything one last time before they left. 

Sure enough, Dean entered the room and immediately went for his bag. “I guess we should go,” he mumbled.

“Make sure you’ve got everything,” said Cas, slipping on his shoes.

“Cas.”

The affection in his voice made Cas smile. “What?” He stood only to find Dean cupping his face in his hands and kissing him so intensely he couldn’t prevent a moan from escaping his mouth. 

When he pulled away, Cas was practically dizzy with emotion. “Dean,” he said.

“You are perfect,” he replied. Then he went back to his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and headed out to the kitchen. 

It took Castiel a moment to snap out of his bewilderment before he shouldered his own bag and followed Dean out the door.

***

It was almost torturous to watch Dean fidgeting as they waited in line to board the plane. He’d done well enough through security, and even as they were sitting in the waiting area to be called for boarding. But now all Cas could do was hold his hand and tell him it would be okay as he glanced timidly at the door ahead of them that would lead to the plane.

They made it to their seats and Castiel put their bags in the overhead bins, sitting beside Dean, who opted for the aisle seat.

Dean took Cas’ hand. After what seemed like hours of waiting for the plane to make its way to the head of the runway, Castiel decided perhaps it was best Dean take his sleeping pills now, before he exploded from the anxiety.

“Take these now,” said Cas, handing him two sleeping pills and a bottle of water.

Dean did as he was told and inhaled deeply as the engine rumbled louder and louder, the plane speeding down the runway. Cas was afraid Dean may break his hand as his fingers formed a vice grip around his own.

“Dean,” he said. “Dean, you can open your eyes now. We’re done with the takeoff part.”

He took another shaky breath and let go of Castiel’s hand, looking over at him. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s alright, just try to sleep, okay?”

Thankfully, he  _ was  _ able to fall asleep, and even slept through the landing. Castiel shook his shoulder, gently waking him.

“We’re in Minneapolis,” he said. “Let’s go. We’ve got an hour to wait.”

“Okay,” he replied groggily. They made their way off the plane and took the escalator to the gates for connecting flights.

“We aren’t dead yet,” Dean observed as they sat by their gate.

“Of course we aren’t,” said Cas. “It’s not so bad, is it?”

“I wouldn’t say that. I slept through most of it.”

“Well, only one more.” He leaned over and kissed Dean’s cheek. 

The second flight went much less smoothly. There was a bit of turbulence, a phenomenon which Castiel reminded Dean was completely normal, but nonetheless, Dean ended up with his head in Cas’ lap. He ran his hand up and down the poor man’s back, trying his best to make the experience more bearable.

“Dean, tell me about flowers,” he said.

“What?” breathed Dean.

“Tell me about the weddings you’ve got going.”

“Dude, your buddy don’t wanna talk about flowers,” scoffed a woman sitting at the adjacent aisle seat.

Castiel squinted over at her. “Sorry?”

“He’s scared of flying, he’s not a freakin’ fairy. Hey, honey lemme buy you a drink. You need to loosen up.”

“You--”

Dean’s head snapped up. “First of all, lady, he’s not my ‘buddy’,” he snapped. Cas jumped at the sudden change in Dean’s composure.

“Just figured you knew each other,” she shrugged. “What kinda drink you like?”

“We  _ know  _ each other, yeah. He’s my boyfriend.”

She stuttered, “Oh, I’m sorry I just--”

“Second of all, I don’t drink. And third of all, I’m a horticulturist. A  _ florist _ .”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“It’s fine,” he sighed and turned back to Castiel. The woman blushed and ordered herself a drink as the flight attendant passed by with her cart.

“Are you okay?” asked Castiel.

Dean looked at him. “I feel like my heart is going to come out of my chest.”

“I’m sorry. But we’re almost there.”

He tried again, “Try telling me about the flowers. Distract yourself.”

“I don’t have any weddings out of the ordinary,” he began. “I’m actually excited about this one though, it’s got lily of the valley, ranunculus, and maidenhair ferns. And the bride wants forget-me-nots…” 

The flower distraction appeared to work well enough that Dean was able to keep it together for the remainder of the flight. The only real trouble came when the plane began its descent, at which point Dean had his eyes firmly closed and his hands gripped the armrests so tight the colour drained from his knuckles. 

He peaked open an eye after a while, just as the wheels approached the ground and he gasped as they came into contact with the pavement. He held his breath as they screeched to a halt, rumbling down the runway toward JFK Airport. 

Castiel gently put a hand on Dean’s cheek and turned his face toward his. “Dean, we’re here. It’s okay now.” He brushed his lips against both his eyelids before they fluttered open.

Dean exhaled a long breath. “We’re alive,” he said, his entire body trembling with relief. 

“Of course we are.” Castiel took his hand and rubbed a thumb over his knuckles. 

When the plane came to a complete stop, Dean followed Cas’ suit and took his bag from the overhead bin, the two of them standing in line to exit the plane.

Finally, they made their way through the crowd past baggage claim and stood outside the airport. Castiel was suddenly tugged forward by his waist, crashing a little less than gracefully into Dean as he kissed him for several seconds.

“Dean,” he gasped, trying to hide his smile. “We’re in  _ public _ .”

“Sorry,” he said, still clearly shaken. “I’m just happy we’re alive.”

He nodded. “As am I. Let’s call a cab and head to the train station. My parents will have plenty of food waiting.”

“Thank god,” he said as he rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m  _ starving _ .”

“You’re not ‘starving’, Dean,” Cas rolled his eyes. “But yes, I am hungry as well.”

The shouted down a cab and climbed in the back seat after throwing their bags in the trunk. “How far do your parents live?” asked Dean, resting his hand on Cas’ knee.

“A couple hours. But it’ll take twice that on the train.”

Dean groaned. “Cas, we need food before then!”

Castiel couldn’t help but laugh. “Fine, Dean we’ll get something to eat at the train station.”

And they did. They bought two overpriced sandwiches and made it just in time to their train, hastily making their way to their seats. Castiel let Dean have the window seat, seeing as he’d never been to the east coast and he figured just because he himself didn’t really see the beauty in it, Dean might. Dean was shivering slightly, but Castiel knew it wasn’t from nerves, it was from the cold. He’d  _ told  _ Dean to pack another layer, but he wouldn’t listen. 

He sighed and shrugged off his trenchcoat, laying it across Dean’s shoulders as he leaned forward to gaze out the window.

“What’s this for?” Dean asked.

“I told you you’d be cold,” Cas chided.

Dean huffed but tugged the coat tighter around his shoulders all the same, and Castiel smirked with satisfaction.

As it darkness finally fell, Cas rested his head on Dean’s shoulder. Dean shifted to make him more comfortable but kept his eyes out the window, watching the city lights dusted with snow streaming by as Cas closed his eyes and began to doze.

***

“Cas, come on,” Dean shook Castiel from his slumber. He gasped and sat up quickly, dazed.

“Hmph?” 

“We’re here, we gotta get to your folks’ house.”

Cas stood and stretched, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Dean looked at his watch; it wasn’t terribly late, but the travel had been exhausting.  _ Fucking planes,  _ he thought.

The two called yet another cab, the final one, that took them the short distance to Cas’ parents’ place. His mother was out the door within second of the duffels dropping to the sidewalk, wrapping him in an uncomfortable embrace. Dean chuckled at the sight.

He patted her back and smiled, “Hello mother.”

“Oh Castiel, it’s so nice to see you!” she said as she tightened her grip on him.

Finally releasing him, she turned to Dean and to his surprise, actually gave him a hug, too. “It’s wonderful to have you, Dean,” she said.

Dean returned the hug and replied, “I’m very happy to be here, thank you for having me.”

“Of course,” she waved a hand at him, turning back toward the house. “Now come inside you two, your father’s just finished putting away supper, but we can heat up anything you want.”

They followed her up the steps past the neat little trees the grew in front of the porch. The house wasn’t abnormally large, but even from the outside it looked huge compared to his or Cas’ tiny flat. Three windows trimmed with white looked out to the porch, which had three pillars to the roof; two on either side of the stairs leading to the dark, wooden door, and a third at the far end or the deck. He could picture Cas and his brothers growing up here, having barbeques in the summer on this porch and snowball fights in the small front yard.

Naomi swung the door open and Cas held it for Dean as he stepped inside, coming out of his daydreaming.

“Chuck!” called Naomi. “They’re here!”

He was immediately greeted with wonderful smells and a cozy atmosphere, the amber floors glowing under the fluorescent chandelier above them. A plush maroon, suede sofa sat by the wall with the windows. Dean thought it looked a lot like the smaller one Cas had in his flat, and he wondered if his parents had given it to him. Across from the sofa hung a flat-screen TV Dean thought looked fantastic, especially in comparison to the outdated, boxy one he had at home. There was even a brick fireplace, complete with a roaring fire, at the far wall of the room, framed by two beige, upholstered chairs. He could just make out the photos in the frames on the mantle, and he made a mental note to check them out more closely in the coming days. 

Dean clumsily took off his shoes and followed Castiel through the archway to the dining room, where Chuck was wiping down a beautiful mahogany table.

“Castiel!” he smiled, briefly hugging Cas. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well,” he said.

“Dean,” he greeted, slapping him on the back with one hand and gripping Dean’s in the other.

Dean shook his hand and said, “Good to see you again, sir.”

“Sir? I like him, Castiel,” he chuckled.

Dean scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, but smiled. He was absolutely beat.

“Come on you two,” said Naomi. “Let’s get you some food.”

He accompanied her along with Castiel through a hallway past the dining room into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator beside the sink and removed several dishes and set them on the granite counter. 

“Castiel, why don’t you go upstairs and get situated while I heat up some of this for you,” said Naomi, rummaging in one of the hickory cupboards above the stove. 

“Alright, thank you, mother,” replied Cas. He took Dean’s arm and went through the hall, under another archway, and past two other bedrooms, and up a set of stairs lined with a red oriental rug. 

“My room is up here,” said Cas, turning left as they reached the top. “I shared it with Gabe when we were kids.”

“What about Balthazar?” Dean asked as they entered the room.

“He got his own room downstairs,” Cas rolled his eyes.

It was obvious the room had changed since they were children, Dean thought. It really didn’t look like kids had ever lived there. The walls looked as though they had once been a darker colour; now they were white. One queen bed sat in the far corner by the window with long, white curtains falling to their sides, and a braided rug lay at the center of the spacious room. On the wall facing the doorway sat a bureau with clawed feet and a simple desk and chair. Another white door sat slightly ajar at the center of the wall adjacent to the bureau; he could just make out the tile of a washroom floor through it. 

“This is really nice,” Dean commented as he set his duffel bag on the floor.

“Thank you,” said Cas. “It’s a guest room now but it still has nice memories I suppose.”

He recalled the discussion they’d had about Castiel’s decision to move to the west coast, how he’d needed desperately to get away from this place that held a myriad of horrible memories, and he wondered how this must feel to him. Had he been coming home to visit for every major holiday since then? 

The first several minutes of unpacking what little belongings they’d brought were silent. Dean spoke first, “You, uh, you doin’ okay?” he asked tentatively. 

Cas had gone to the bureau and was currently placing his neatly folded clothing into the top drawer. “I’m alright,” he said, brow slightly furrowed. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Just making sure.”

“I see.” He padded over to Dean and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. Let’s go get some food.”

They made their way back to the kitchen, where Dean was yet again enticed by wafting scents of baked chicken, fried rice, and vegetables. 

“Take as much as you want,” said Chuck as Castiel grabbed them plates. 

“Thank you so much,” said Dean. “This is amazing, this has been the craziest day.”

They helped themselves and carried their plates into the dining room, sitting side by side. 

“How were your flights?” asked Naomi, a glass of wine in her hand.

Dean scoffed, but Cas said, “They were fine.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I dunno what flights  _ you  _ were on, but mine were fucking  _ terrifying _ .”

He winced as the words came out of his mouth. Cas’ family didn’t seem like the type of people who’d swear. They were nice enough, but they were also  _ really  _ religious and to be frank, a little uptight. Naomi may have flinched the tiniest bit at his choice of words, but she just laughed.

“You have a fear of flying?”

“Little bit,” Dean responded.

“He was brave,” said Cas, looking at him fondly. 

Man, he didn’t know when he got so soft, but Cas could just about make him  _ melt _ with looks like that. He stared down at his plate, grinning like the sap that he was.

Naomi cleared her throat. Chuck had appeared beside her, wearing some sort of amused expression. “Well, we’re going to bed,” she said. “We’ll see you tomorrow morning.” 

She smiled at him as she and her husband went to their bedroom and closed the door behind them, leaving Dean alone with Cas at the table.

They quietly finished their food and carried the dishes to the kitchen, washed their plates, and made their way back up the stairs.

“I’m very glad you’re here,” said Cas as he climbed into the bed beside Dean after they’d changed, wrapping an arm around his waist and drawing him close.

Dean pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m glad, too.” He began drawing lazy circles on Cas’ back beneath his shirt, eliciting a sigh from the other man as he lay his head on Dean’s chest. Dean felt himself drift off happily with his face buried in Cas’ hair.

***

Dean awoke to soft lips repeatedly pressed against his own. Only after the first several did he wake up enough to reciprocate. Light was barely coming through the window, and Dean knew it must be early, especially by Cas’ standards. He found it ironic that the man regularly got up at 4:00am to make bagels and pastries, but  _ despised  _ mornings. Dean was always the first to climb out of bed and make the coffee, the scent of which usually drew Cas from his warm cocoon of blankets.

Cas chuckled beside him, his voice rumbling in Dean’s chest as he lay his head there. 

“Good morning to you, too,” said Dean, smiling sleepily.

Cas ran his fingers over Dean’s exposed collarbone. 

“What’re you thinking?” asked Dean softly.

“I bet my mother has baby photos out in the dining room ready to show you,” he sighed.

Dean laughed. “Oh boy, that’ll be a trip. Should we go downstairs?”

Cas grumbled a little, nuzzling his head into Dean’s chest. “Not yet.”

Dean nodded and the two drifted in and out of consciousness for the next hour before Dean finally sighed and stood to wash his face in the bathroom.

He heard Cas groan as he left and he smiled, amused. 

“Come on, Cas,” said Dean as he strode back to the bed. “Let’s go get coffee.”

Again, his only response was a muffled groan. Dean knelt beside the grumbling lump of blankets.

“I’m going to get coffee. And while I do so, your mother is going to show me embarrassing photos of you and tell me embarrassing stories because you won’t be there to stop her.”

Cas whipped the blanket off his head and turned to glare at Dean.

“You…” he said. “You are the  _ worst _ .”

“Yup,” Dean concurred, leaning down to kiss Cas before he ambled down the stairs. 

Castiel quickly caught up with him just as he entered the kitchen to find Chuck with a pot of coffee already made.

“Good morning,” Chuck nodded. “Coffee?”

“Please,” said Dean. Cas, who was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, took a mug and filled it wordlessly.

“He’s never been a morning person,” said Chuck, leaning against the counter.

“I’m not surprised,” Dean replied. Castiel glared at the two of them in response, taking his coffee to the dining room table.

“So you’ve never been to the east coast, huh?” asked Chuck.

“Nope,” Dean shook his head. “Born and raised on the west coast. Never had a reason to come out here.”

“What do you think so far?”

“I think it’s cold,” Dean huffed. “But I haven’t seen much of it, plus it was mostly dark when we arrived.”

“Cas will have to show you around, then.” He craned his neck to look at his son, who was staring pensively out the window, coffee in hand.

“I’m sure he will,” said Dean. “He just needs to wake up first.”

It was nearly 9:00am by the time Cas could be deemed fully-awake, and at that point Naomi had come into the kitchen to make breakfast. 

“Would you like any eggs, Dean?” she asked.

“I don’t want to be a bother,” he said.

“He’ll have three,” Cas chimed in, making a bit of colour rise to Dean’s cheeks.

Naomi smiled. “Three it is.”

“Thank you,” he said as she placed a plate piled with eggs, sausage, and toast.

“No problem at all.”

“Castiel, are you going to show Dean around town today?” asked Chuck, finishing his toast.

He nodded. “Yes, I’d like to.”

“Your brother’s coming today, too,” said Naomi.

Cas nodded. “I know. Dean and I are going into the city.”

So after they ate and got themselves ready, Cas took Dean’s hand and headed outside. It was alarming to Dean just how cold it felt.  _ It’s only November!  _ he thought. But when he voiced this opinion, Castiel merely laughed.

“Dean, it’s cold and snowy most of the year here,” he said bluntly. “You’re spoiled with California.”

Dean grumbled, cursing the fact that Cas had been right in telling him he’d need more layers. “Where are we going, anyways?” he asked, changing the subject. 

“I’m going to show you all the big places,” said Cas.

They spent the day alternating between taking the bus and walking around the streets of Albany, taking time to warm up in various coffee shops along the way. They started with a walk through Washington Park and Cas told him about the numerous performance venues around the city, showing him the Times Union Center, Palace Theater, and an oddly-shaped building called the Egg. They even stopped at the State Museum and the Institute of History and Art, both of which Dean found interesting. 

Toward the end of the day, as they took their seats in a nice little café, Dean asked, “Just one thing, what do you do without, you know, plants?”

“What?” said Cas, sliding off his coat.

“In the winter. What do you do without signs of  _ life?” _

He chuckled a little morbidly. “We get depressed.”

“Huh. Makes sense.”

“You have to try a bagel now.”

“What? No, man it’s almost dinner. Besides I’m not big on bagels.”

Cas tilted his head. “You seemed to be last winter.”

_ Stop blushing _ . “Yeah, uh, well that was, I mean, they just aren’t my  _ favourite  _ thing, you know--”

“It’s okay, Dean. I know you only ordered them so you could talk to me,” he had a smug grin on his face. “But that’s beside the point. These are  _ New York  _ bagels. You  _ need  _ to have one.”

He didn’t see what the big deal was. “It’s just a bagel, Cas. Plus, I thought the infamous New York bagels were only in the city?”

“Dean, trust me on this.”

“Fine, fine.” He caved and ordered an everything bagel with cream cheese and a small coffee. 

“Oh,” he said, taking his first bite. “Alright, fine. Not bad.” It was probably the best bagel he’d ever had, but he didn’t dare tell Cas he was right.

“You love it,” Cas said matter-of-factly.

“Whatever,” Dean rolled his eyes. “What’s this place called?”

“Uncommon Grounds,” he replied. Dean told himself he needed to come back here before they left and try their bagel sandwiches, which were probably  _ amazing. _

When they found themselves walking up the steps to the Novak’s house once more, Dean noticed a second car parked in the driveway. Both of them were assaulted upon entering the house as Gabriel threw his arms around both their necks.

“Long time no see!” he cried. He pulled away and playfully patted his brother’s cheek. “How’ve ya been?”

Cas smiled. “Fine, Gabriel. It’s good to see you.”

“You too, little bro.” He turned and eyed Dean. “You’re still with this handsome guy?” He winked playfully.

“Yes, and he’s  _ mine  _ so back off,” joked Cas.

Dean chuckled as Gabriel backed away to let them into the house. 

“Come in,” said Naomi, peeking her head around the corner from the dining room. “I’ve just finished the lasagna.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. He wasn’t anticipating so much hospitality here; sure, they seemed like kind people, but he hadn’t been entirely convinced they were too keen on him dating their son. Any doubts he’d had, however, were quickly dismissed in the time he spent at the Novak’s home for a Thanksgiving holiday.

The five of them sat at the dining room table that night and Cas and Dean shared stories of the places they’d been around the city that day, the others chiming in to point out places they used to go when Cas, Gabriel, and Balthazar were young. Dean was humbled by their acceptance, and felt a little guilty for having thought they felt any differently. 

“You know Castiel’s had this obsession with bugs forever?” said Gabe as they began clearing the table.

“The field doesn’t just include insects,” Cas corrected him seriously. “There are arachnids, scorpions --”

Gabe waved a hand at him. “Not the point.”

“I think it’s cool,” Dean mumbled.

Cas smiled shyly. “See?” he said. “Dean thinks it’s  _ cool _ .” 

Chuck and Naomi took the dishes into the kitchen. “You boys go relax,” said Naomi. “We’ll handle the rest.” 

They said their thanks and went to the living room, Cas and Dean making themselves comfortable on the sofa while Gabe sat in one of the chairs by the fire. 

“He’d sit outside and watch  _ bugs _ ,” continued Gabe. “For  _ hours!”  _

“They have interesting social structure,” said Cas.

“You can’t tell me you don’t think that’s strange,” said Gabe, looking expectantly at Dean.

He settled his arm on the couch behind Cas’ shoulders. “Hey, man I’m not one to talk,” he admitted. “I’m just as geeky about plants.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “You two are hopeless.”

“Oh come on,” replied Dean. “What do  _ you  _ do then? You’re mister cool?”

“Of course I am,” he scoffed. 

“Sure,” Cas rolled his eyes. 

“I own a chain of hotels farther upstate,” said Gabe.

“Sounds like a blast,” Dean said sarcastically. The playful bickering continued until Chuck and Naomi announced they were going to bed. Dean couldn’t decide if he liked Gabriel or not, whether he was more annoying or charming. But he seemed like a good brother to Cas, and that was all that really mattered. 

“I’m gonna hit the hay, too,” Gabriel announced some time after his parents. “Keep it down up there, would ya?” He winked at Cas before disappearing into his bedroom.

“Let’s go up stairs,” grumbled Cas, appearing to be slightly embarrassed.

They didn’t go to sleep straight away, but sat against the headboard side-by-side by the light of the lamp. Dean had his laptop in front of him, scanning through an article about sustainable landscape design while Cas stared intently at the pages of  _ The Joys of Beekeeping.  _

“You ever read anything else, Cas?” Dean chuckled.

“What do you mean?” asked Cas without looking up.

“I only ever see you reading biology books. Entomology books. Just scientific things.”

“I read biographies and historical accounts as well.”

Dean looked over at him. “You never read anything fictional? Fantasy?”

Cas tore his eyes from the page. “No, I haven’t.”

“What?” Dean was in shock. How could anyone go their whole lives without reading the classics? “You can’t tell me you’ve never read  _ The Hobbit _ ? Or  _ Lord of the Rings _ ?  _ Grimm’s Fairy Tales _ ?”

He shook his head. “No, I never had the chance when I was young. And I never felt the need.”

Dean tried to wrap his head around this. Seven months with Cas and he never knew the poor guy had never read any of the books Dean had grown up on. 

“Not even  _ Harry Potter? _ ”

Again, he shook his head.

Dean sighed. “I know what I’m getting you for Christmas,” he said.

“I’m not sure I’d like fantasy novels, Dean.” 

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

“Hmph.”

Cas resumed his reading for a while before Dean closed his laptop and lay down, pulling the covers up to his chin. He felt Cas shift beside him, switch off the light and curl around his back.

“Hey,” grumbled Dean. “I’m not the little spoon.”

“I beg to differ,” Cas mumbled into his shoulder.

“Come on, Cas,” Dean tried to turn, but an arm held him firmly in place.

“Goodnight, Dean.” Cas kissed the back of his neck and settled his arm at Dean’s side.

He found himself grinning in the dark, secretly enjoying the safe feeling he had pressed against Cas’ chest. “Goodnight, Cas.”

***

The following day went by in a blur. Naomi began fluttering about the house, declaring they needed to tidy up for the guests to come. Dean hardly thought the place needed any cleaning, it looked much better than any place he’d ever lived in terms of organisation. But as they helped her dust the shelves, Cas leaned close to his ear and said, “She always gets like this around holidays.”

Dean merely nodded and complied with whatever tasks the flustered woman gave him. And by the end of the day, everything looked  _ immaculate _ . 

“Alright,” Naomi said, taking a deep breath. “The family will be over in the late afternoon, so we have lots of cooking and baking to do. Hope you’re good in the kitchen, Dean.”

“He is,” said Cas.

“Excellent.” And with that, she set about dragging leftovers out of the refrigerator. 

Really, the day was a whirlwind and Dean was left to wonder if this was the day  _ before  _ the actual holiday, how would it be when there were loads of other family members around? He could see how Cas would be stressed by such chaotic vibes in the house.

“Lots of cooking and baking, huh?” said Dean as he washed their plates. They were alone in the kitchen after a rather rushed dinner, the others having slipped away into their respective rooms. 

“Mm,” said Cas. “My parents are great at both. Though my father tends to do more of the baking.”

“I look forward to it. Should be fun.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” laughed Cas.

Their hands fell together as they stepped up their stairs and closed the bedroom door. Dean shed his jeans and changed his shirt as Cas stood in the front of the bathroom mirror brushing his teeth.

“So who’s coming to this shindig?” asked Dean, searching for his sweatpants.

Cas spit in the sink and washed his face. “A lot of people you met at the wedding,” he replied. “Both my brothers, obviously, and my grandmother.”

“She was a hoot and a half,” he chuckled, remembering the old woman in the gaudy sunhat. 

“Yes, she’s a wonderful woman,” Cas agreed. “My aunt and uncle are coming, too. The fun part will probably begin when my homophobic cousins arrive.” He went to the bureau and dug out some pyjamas. 

“Oh boy,” scoffed Dean. “Well, maybe they’ll be civil.”

He clicked the switch to the lamp on the nightstand and turned off the ceiling light, climbing under the blankets as Cas changed his clothes.

“It’s fun to imagine,” he said. “But I wouldn’t count on it.”

He lifted the covers and lay beside Dean, turning off the lamp as he did so. 

Dean felt the other man hook his arm around his waist and nuzzle close to his neck. “Well, then we’ll just have to enjoy the peace while we have it.” 

He drew Cas close to him, allowing their body heat to surround him under the blanket, and kissed his forehead before he nodded off to sleep.

***

“Castiel!”

Cas opened an eye as his mother flung the door open. The clock beside the bed read 7:34am, and there Naomi stood in the doorway, fully dressed and ready to bake, apron tied perfectly at her waist.

“Oh!” she gasped. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“We are  _ sleeping _ ,” Cas said, irritated.

“Oh, yes well, um, just wanted to let you know we need to start making the food.”

Her face was absurdly red. She might not object to Castiel’s homosexuality, but she sure as hell had an obvious problem seeing the two of them in bed together, not that she would ever admit it.

Castiel sighed. “Fine.” He rolled over, his nose smushing into Dean’s shoulder. 

“Okay,” she said. “I- I’ll just, uh, we’ll be down stairs.”

“ _ Okay _ .”

“Castiel, sweetie?” 

He propped himself up on one elbow. “Yes, mother?”

“Did you- ? Are you - ? You know, you still need to use  _ protection  _ with men, just because -”

“ _ Mother _ ,” he growled. “Please just stop.”

“See you downstairs soon, then.” She quietly closed the door as she left.

How Dean was still asleep was beyond him. The house could be swept away in a tornado and he’d still be there, as he was now, head tilted back, lips slightly parted, snoring lightly as his eyes flitted back and forth beneath their lids.

Castiel stared at him for a moment, fighting back a chuckle. He thought, in that moment, seeing someone sleeping may be one of the most intimate glimpses one could ever see into another person’s life. In sleep, a person let down their guard completely, and they often looked a bit ridiculous in doing so. Perhaps it was silly, but he felt happy Dean trusted him enough to let him see him in such a state on practically a nightly basis. And, even more so, he felt a little proud of himself that he trusted  _ Dean _ enough to do so.  _ Nobody thinks about that,  _ he told himself.  _ Other people aren’t as paranoid as you. People sleep together all the time.  _ Still, the accomplishment in trust made him happy.

He lay back down and wrapped his arms around Dean, nuzzling close to him and shutting his eyes. Being at his parents house was going better than he thought it would have, but he still felt the lingering unease of bad memories in the place. Not to mention, they hadn’t had Thanksgiving dinner yet, and  _ that  _ was bound to be unpleasant. 

“Dean,” he said quietly, his fingers drawing circles on the sleeping man’s chest. 

Dean continued with his little snores, which made Castiel smile. “Hey,” he said a little louder, smiling. “You’re being adorable but we really have to get up.” Now he was speaking full volume and gently shaking Dean’s shoulder.

When that didn’t work, he simply sighed and began peppering kisses along his jaw, then turned his face toward his own and kissed his mouth. Eventually, Dean’s eyes shot open and after a moment of confusion, he took Cas’ face in both his hands and hummed a low note of approval.

“You know, I could really get used to waking up like this,” said Dean sleepily.

“Hm, don’t count on it,” smiled Cas. “The only reason I’m up this early is because my mother barged in and told me we had to start making food.” He rested his chin on his hands folded over Dean’s chest.

“I missed that.”

“You sleep like the dead,” he commented. He couldn’t help thinking how incredibly difficult it was to remove himself from bed with Dean just sitting there, looking beautiful and playing with this hair in a way that made him  _ really  _ want to go back to sleep.

“Come on,” he said abruptly, tearing himself away from the bed’s warm comfort.

Dean whined. “It’s not even 8:00.”

“I know, but we’re already late.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, “Late?”

“Yes,  _ late.  _ Everyone else is probably down there helping with food.”

Cas hurriedly tugged on his clothes as Dean reluctantly made his way to the washroom, stretching into a yawn as he went. 

Once they reached the kitchen, they were immediately swept into his mother’s neurotic, frenzied holiday preparations. She had Gabe on dishwashing duty considering he couldn’t cook or bake to save his life, and Chuck was making dough for pie crusts on the counter. Having apparently forgotten her earlier embarrassment over seeing her son in bed with another man, she grabbed Dean’s arm and dragged him over to the counter by Chuck, instructing him to ‘please cut the vegetables into equally-sized pieces’ while she prepared a glaze for the turkey. Castiel, meanwhile, started washing and peeling potatoes. Of course he loved his mother, but Castiel really had a difficult time managing his nerves whenever he was visiting his childhood home, particularly around holidays. 

The morning flew by, with all of them busily preparing dishes for hours, and Cas secretly wondered if perhaps they were making too much food. They made stuffing, stuffed the turkey and dumped the vegetables around it in the roasting pan, pouring the glaze over top, and placed it in the oven by 9:00am. It was probably the largest turkey Cas had ever seen, then again Naomi was  _ always  _ sure to have an enormous turkey for Thanksgiving. 

Following the turkey came a slew of other incredible-smelling dishes, including cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, homemade gravy,  sweet potato casserole, pumpkin and pecan pies, and even homemade bread. By the time 3:30pm rolled around, almost everything was finished and they’d begun setting up the table, laying down a linen tablecloth embroidered with pumpkins and autumn leaves. Everyone was set to arrive by 4:00pm and things were going smoothly thus far, though Castiel found he was anticipating the opening of the wine as his heart didn’t appear to want to stop racing.

His oldest brother was the first to arrive, sans his new wife. Their parents opened the door for him and each hugged him tightly. 

“Balthazar, it’s good to see you,” said Cas, hugging his brother. 

“Likewise, Cassie.”

He entered the house and Naomi took his jacket as he glanced at the TV. “Macy’s Parade as usual?” he smiled. 

“Of course!” said Chuck. “It’s a good tradition.”

Seeing as the food was done, they opted to sit on the couch and watch the parade until the other guests arrived. Chuck stood to check the pies, insisting Naomi stay seated and try to relax a bit. But another knock quickly came at the door and she leapt up.

“Hello mother!” she cried cheerfully. Castiel smiled as his grandmother came through the door, clad in a thick fur coat and lopsided knit hat.

“Hello Naomi, darling,” she said, patting Naomi’s back. “And Chuck!”

“Julia,” he smiled and hugged the old woman.

The flow of relatives didn’t stop for another fifteen minutes, all exchanging hugs and kisses and “How are you?”s and shaking Dean’s hand. Castiel’s Uncle Uriel and Aunt Tessa arrived next followed by Hannah, who pointedly avoided greeting Cas after scowling at Dean, and finally, Lu came through the door, making their party complete. 

“Shall we sit?” said Naomi, clapping her hands together.

Chuck and Dean having inserted the leaf and moved the table closer to the center of the room, there was ample space for everyone to sit. Chuck carried out the enormous turkey on a round plate still surrounded by the roasted vegetables, glistening with the glaze Naomi had made. He really commended his parents for going all-out on holidays, always using their best dishes, decorated with elegant twisting patterns and etched flowers, everything from the bowl with scalloped edges containing mashed potatoes to the gravy sitting in an ornate white china boat. It looked almost like a Norman Rockwell painting.

Everything seemed alright thus far; everyone was seated and chatting comfortably, no negative comments had been made, and even Hannah and Lu had refrained from saying anything at all to Castiel or Dean. 

Then Cas watched, slightly horror-stricken, as Dean reached for the large fork and knife sitting by the turkey platter.

“Who would like some turkey?” he said, beaming.  _ Shit _ , thought Cas.  _ You didn’t warn him. _

“We have to say grace,” he tried mumbling through his teeth.

Dean looked expectantly at the suddenly hushed crowd. 

Cas cleared his throat, but before he could say anything else, Lu spoke up.

“Excuse me,” he said, “but to us, this is not simply a holiday for stuffing your face. We celebrate Thanksgiving the way our ancestors did, by saying _ thanks _ for all that we have before this meal the Lord has blessed us to have.”

Dean’s face grew red very quickly and he gulped as he gingerly set the fork and knife back down. Cas’ blood was beginning to boil. “Not sure they were thankful so much as murderous raving racists,” he mumbled.

Gabriel snorted beside him, even Naomi’s mother appeared to be having a difficult time holding back a laugh.

“Excuse me?” Lu said again, turning to Cas.

He set his jaw, looking his cousin right in the eye. “Our ‘ancestors’. They celebrated the first Thanksgiving after slaughtering and kidnapping the Natives and stealing their land. Then they played soccer with the heads of the ‘savages’ while having their victory dinner. I hardly think they were even the least bit  _ thankful _ .”

The table fell painfully silent, but Cas kept his gaze steady, despite the concerned looks from his brothers and the uncomfortable shifting around the table. Eventually, Lu broke the staring contest and Naomi cleared her throat.

“Let us give thanks,” she said. And the table joined hands, saying grace.

For a while, the tension eased up as the conversation fell to more generic things such as “How was your flight?” and “Snow’s not too bad here yet” and “How’s the work going?”

“Speaking of work,” said Hannah, regarding Castiel for the first time that afternoon. “How long have you been at this coffee shop, Castiel?”

He bit his lip. “It’ll be a year in January,” he said honestly.

“That’s wonderful!” cried Julia, sincerely. 

But Hannah continued, “Nice. And when do you plan on getting a real job?”

“Hannah,” warned Chuck.

“What? I’m only asking. He’s got that degree after all.”

“I’m saving up to start an apiary,” he said quietly. 

“Oh Castiel,” Uriel rolled his eyes. “Do you have any idea how long it takes to establish something like that?”

“I do, I’ve been-”

“How long it takes to actually  _ make money _ on something like that?”

“I’ve been looking for a second job but-”

“How do you even pay the rent?” asked Lu.

“I pay rent just fine,” he glared.

“Or feed yourself?”

His cheeks burned pink. Before he began dating Dean, he didn’t eat much. When Charlie found out about this, she began inviting him over more, insisting to make him dinner and send him home with leftovers. But Dean made him food so frequently and took him out to dinner more often after having such an increase in weddings he catered in the summer months, he hadn’t had to worry about being hungry as much.

“I eat with Dean frequently,” was all he managed. Dean squeezed his knee under the table, a sensation for which Castiel was quite grateful.

“Mm,” Uriel nodded, taking another bite of turkey. “Is that what the arrangement is then?”

His relatives could be so fucking dense. “There’s no  _ arrangement _ , Uncle.”

“You’re pretending to date him because you’re too poor to pay for your own food?” Hannah raised her eyebrows.

Cas pushed himself away from the table and tried walking away as calmly as he could, but he was trembling, trying to hold it together in spite of the incessant thumping in his chest. He stood against the wall in the bedroom upstairs attempting to steady his breathing when Dean came in quietly.

“Cas,” he said softly, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder.

Cas gripped his shoulders. “Dean, you can’t possibly believe them,” he said hoarsely. “You don’t think I’d -”

“Of course I don’t,” Dean replied, cupping Cas’ face in his hand. “I would never believe a thing they say. Now come downstairs, dinner’s almost done then everyone will leave after dessert.” 

He kissed his forehead then his mouth. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Dean?” he said, and he stopped still holding his hand.

“Yeah?” Dean turned to him.

“Can we leave tomorrow?”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation, standing close to Cas. “But our flight isn’t until Saturday evening.”

“I know. But I wanted you to see the city,” he averted his eyes, unsure whether or not this was a silly idea. 

“You want me to see the city?”

“Well yeah, you’ve never seen New York. And it’s especially beautiful this time of year.”

When he brought his eyes to Dean’s face, he saw him smiling fondly. “That would be really nice. Let’s do that.”

“We can get a train tomorrow.”

“Alright then. Let’s go finish this dinner, hm?”

Cas nodded and took Dean’s hand as they took their places back at the table, ignoring the expressions on everyone’s faces.

“So Dean,” said Lu.

_ Jesus Christ, give it a rest,  _ thought Cas.

“Yes?” Dean replied politely.  _ How does he maintain such composure?  _ Castiel wondered.

“You cater any fag weddings lately?”

This caused a slight uproar, to Castiel’s surprise. His brothers were both saying, “Watch it Lu” simultaneously with “Is that really necessary?” from Tessa.

“Enough,” said Naomi sternly, hushing everyone.

“We do not tolerate hate in this house, Lu,” said Chuck. 

Castiel bit back a smile. He hadn’t expected any of them to stand up for him or Dean, maybe his brothers, but not his parents. They might’ve accepted him for who he was, but Cas knew they lacked the gumption to speak out against homophobia.

After this outburst, tensions eased up quite a bit, much to Castiel’s surprise. They spoke quite civilly to one another right through dessert, which was incredible. Dean had made the pie fillings and Castiel felt he’d never tasted anything so good in his life. He made a mental note to make more pies with Dean in the future. 

Eventually, everyone gradually cleaned up and gathered their things, leading to a flood of hugs and goodbyes. Everyone, including Gabriel who’d insisted he must return home so he could work the next morning, cleared out of the house by 7:30pm. After that, the others spent a good deal of time cleaning up. 

“Mother?” said Cas as they carried the dishes from the dining room.

“Hm?”

“Dean and I are taking a train to the city tomorrow.”

She turned to face him. “Why the sudden change of plans? I thought you were staying here?”

“Let them have some fun,” said Chuck from the kitchen. “There’s hardly anything to do around here.”

“Well,” said Cas, “Dean has never seen the east coast. And New York City is one of the most famous east coast cities. I just thought it would be nice. The decorations will be up.”

She sighed but said, “Alright. Well, we’ll be sad to see you go so soon but it’s been lovely having the two of you.”

“Thank you mother.”

“By the way, Castiel,” said Naomi, changing the subject. “I found a box of your old things in the attic while doing some rearranging the other day.”

“What things?” he replied, placing leftovers in the fridge.

“Miscellaneous things from when you were little,” she said. “I put them on your bed upstairs.”

He nodded and continued storing the food away. When he’d finished, he decided to check out the box, wondering what it could possibly be. He left Dean in the kitchen, scrubbing away at the sweet potato casserole pan, and his parents drying and stacking dishes.

He ambled up the stairs and went to the cardboard box on his bed. Upon opening it, he felt a familiar rush to his chest and a wave of nausea nearly overcoming him.  _ Fuck _ , he thought.  _ I swore I threw this shit out _ . 

He was immediately taken back to various points in his childhood; it was like they each held a memory. All of them. The t-shirts. The jeans. Even the stuffed giraffe. All different memories, but all sending one phrase ringing out through his mind,  _ Please stop _ .

He shoved the box away as he tipped backwards onto the floor, trying desperately to remember how to breathe. 

It felt as though hours had passed by the time he shot up with a gasp, his heart still beating erratically against his chest.

“Jesus Cas,” Dean breathed, wrapping his arms around Cas’ shoulders and holding his head close to his chest. “Are you okay?” He rested his chin on Cas’ head.

Castiel inhaled deeply against Dean’s flannel and closed his eyes. “‘m fine,” he mumbled.

“How long were you lying here?” 

“I don’t know,” replied Cas. “But we need to get rid of that box.”

“What is it? Did you have a panic attack?” the concern in Dean’s eyes was truly endearing. He took Cas’ face gently between both of his hands.

“Items that reminded me of… the, uh, well that remind me a lot of what happened to me when I was a kid.” He swallowed hard. “Clothes I was wearing. Gifts from Al.”

Dean nodded and held him close again. “What say we burn it?” 

Cas pulled away to look at him. “Really?”

“Yeah really. It’s therapeutic. I burned a bunch of Lisa’s shit she’d given me after that shit show.”

He contemplated this for a moment before Dean added, “It doesn’t make everything all better, obviously, but you do feel pretty good afterward from my experience.”

He felt something rise in his chest, was that... _ excitement?  _ Yes. A hint of excitement at the thought that the stuff would be  _ gone.  _ Not donated. Not in storage.  _ Gone _ . 

“We have a fire pit in the back yard,” he said finally.

Dean nodded and stood. “Perfect. Your folks have just turned in for the night; let’s find some matches.”

Castiel knew just where to find them, and after he’d taken the matchbox from the cupboard, he shrugged his coat over his shoulders and led Dean to the back of the house, wretched box in tow. Together they emptied the contents into the pit and Dean jogged back into the house to rummage through the recycling for kindling.

“Care to do the honours?” said Dean. He held the matchbox out to Cas, who took it in hand, shaking slightly. 

“Wanna say a few words?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” replied Cas, “I’d like to say a big ‘fuck you’ and let the bastard know he won’t control my life anymore.”

With that, he struck the match against the box, adding a tinge of sulfur to the air as the flame burst into life. The two watched in silence, hands in their pockets, staring as the fire slowly grew, engulfing the fabric easily. 

“You’re honestly one of the bravest people I’ve ever met,” Dean said out of the blue.

“What?” Cas chuckled.

“I’m serious. The shit you’ve gone through,” he shook his head. “Man, I dunno. It’s just incredible where you are now.” He lifted his head and met Cas’ eyes. “You’re incredible, Cas.”

He blushed, feeling humbled. “You’re pretty incredible yourself, Dean.”

They leaned into each other and Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel’s shoulders, kissing his head. 

The moon had fully risen by the time the fire burned out and Castiel stifled a yawn as they poured snow over the pit, ensuring the fire was completely out. 

“You okay?” asked Dean when they returned to their room.

“Yes,” said Cas. “You were right. I do feel better. I wasn’t expecting to…”

Dean smiled. “Good. Now let’s go to bed.”

Castiel padded over to the bed and lay down beside Dean, switching off the light. He smiled broadly as Dean instinctively threw an arm over him and tugged him closer. He was having a difficult time thinking of the fact that he rarely slept alone anymore, and what was more, he didn’t  _ want  _ to sleep alone. But thankfully, it looked as though he wouldn’t have to do so any time soon. And with this thought, he drifted off to sleep, anticipating the trip ahead of them in the days to come.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope it was worth the wait! More to come soon. Please let me know what you thought, I feel really unsure about this one.  
> Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, and bookmarked thus far. You are all lovely :)


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